A blog featuring a disturbing amount of bacon references.
With the advent of summer-like weather (or as we like to refer to summer in Minnesota - “Really? You call this WARM?”) comes the droning of several annoying, large and usually butt-crack ugly modes of transport called the mot-or-cy-cle.
We went camping for Memorial Day. It was really chilly out, to the point that I was wearing two giant sweatshirts. TWO. I could barely lift my arms due to all the sweatshirtedness. And Jason, whose inner organs sit comfortably in a furnace fueled by copious amounts of testosterone, was wearing a thin t-shirt and denying my reasonable, frequent requests to make the campfire BIGGER. People: I am not a wussy. It was COLD. Which I guess I should’ve expected, seeing as it was almost, you know, June.
